


Echo

by Ozma



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ascian, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 03:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4731623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozma/pseuds/Ozma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As long as the Warrior of Light defeats the Primals and saves the Realm, nothing else matters, least of all the Warrior's personal relationships. Non-explicit mind-sex. Takes place mid-Heavensward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echo

**Author's Note:**

> This story is experimental, it is my first time writing in this style and I hope I've done it some justice. Comments or constructive criticism would be appreciated.

“Igeyorhm. She touched you.” Hard, firm, _tangible_ gloved fingers brush your chest over where Igeyorhm’s darkness pierced you. You do not remove your gaze from his face as your teeth clench at the memory of your weakness and inability to stop even the simplest, most predictable attack. You simply nod, hoping he is ignorant of your frustration.

Lahabrea seems apathetic to your plight, his thoughts distracted, as they often are; his own anger is as quick to rise as the flames he controls, the burning directed and short-sighted.

“She knows she is not to interfere.” He just barely stops the snarl and clenches his fist. The implied and unspoken “ _You are mine”_ is not lost upon you, but as the Ascian does not say it aloud you cannot admonish him for it.

“You should not be here.” You finally speak; you have responsibilities to uphold. Lahabrea’s partnership with Igeyorhm is not your concern.

“Neither should you.” That much is true and you both know it. You should not have returned to the Vault after you last left - after _that_ \- yet any information on Azys Lla would be beneficial to your cause. The last time you forced your way in you did not have the opportunity to look around; now you must search for information on Thordan’s ultimate goal, even if it requires entering this place illegally, under the cover of darkness. “Yet here you are.”

You decide that Lahabrea does not need an answer; let him come to whatever conclusion he pleases. It is likely he knows exactly why you are here, there is no need to play his game. You turn away from the Ascian and instead continue perusing the titles of the books in the private library, unsure exactly what you’re looking for, but you believe you’ll know it when you see it.

It becomes apparent very quickly that Lahabrea has no intention of leaving you be or being ignored. His advances are blatant and you know from experience that he will not leave until he is quite satisfied. With an annoyed sigh, you allow him to corner you against a wall.

His host is tall this time.

You think it might be Elezen, but you are unsure and cannot make out any defining features in the low light. It does not matter.

You pull back and turn your head away as Lahabrea’s host’s mouth approaches your skin. It disgusts you, to be touched by some unknown, possibly filthy creature that Lahabrea chooses to use as a host. You firmly push the host’s face away, knowing fully well how absurd the situation is, especially after you almost just welcomed Lahabrea to do what he pleases with you.

The back of your mind tells you that you should think Lahabrea is the filthy one, the one to feel distaste for, not some innocent man he is using on a whim. The rationalization does nothing to stop your aversion for the host's touch or cool the warming of your body.

He does not let go, but instead draws the host closer, the exposed flesh of his mouth breathing into your ear.

“You understand.” As the wisps of air move past you, you wonder if he needs to breathe or simply does it for your sake. Lahabrea seems satisfied at your discomfort, as if he’s won some inexplicable battle that you had no idea you were fighting. “These prisons of flesh. . .”

He does not acknowledge your disapproval of using his host to touch you and pushes its mouth onto yours. His hands make their way down your body as he kisses you, grinding his teeth into your bottom lip and pushing his tongue wherever it can reach with an almost bestial ferocity. Despite your initial fear, the host is distinctly Lahabrea; the taste, the smell, the feel, the motion, all of it you intimately know. His hands play between your thighs; the strange metallic claws of his gloves somehow find a way to part your cloth armor and trail over your skin.

This is a holy place, the statue of The Fury in the side of the room reminds you.

With the way Lahabrea continues his massage, the way he draws your clothes down and trails harsh nips down your neck, you find it terribly difficult to care.

He continues toying with you using his host until your head feels light and you are breathless. In the back of your lust-addled mind you absently wonder if you, too, need to breathe, or if the Echo makes your body simply a host to be discarded, changed, altered, whenever needed or desired.

Whatever he does, it is not enough.

Flesh is never enough.

 _The Echo breaks the chains of existence_ , Lahabrea had declared to you the first time you were together. The words repeat in your head and you are unsure if they are from your memories or are a command as he begins to slip into your Aether; his Aether is heavy, overbearing, hot - burning more strongly than the fire he controls.

You wonder if your Aether is as cold to him as his is warm to you; perhaps that’s why he favors Igeyorhm and her Ice. The thought is bitter and spiteful and a sense of absolute possession fills you, emotions which you are unsure are quite your own.

It is impossible to tell the exact moment you finish merging, or even what happens once the process occurs. Are you still in your body - _host_? Are you in his host? Has your Aether formed some altogether different creature upon its release? There is no way of knowing; there is no purpose in caring.

The only sign that everything is complete is the slight disapproving shame some distant part of you feels as the light at your core temporarily fades.

Uncertainty overlaid with cool confidence. Fear and caution overwhelmed by amusement and burning pleasure. Liberation. Disdain. Possession. Desire. Control. _Chaos._

Glorious, overpowering, terrifying, welcoming, pulsing chaos.

In those still moments, there is no more struggle for control. No more stubborn refusal to cooperate or listen to even the most basic commands. How could there be? There is one. One will. One mind. One absolute understanding.

The fire dims; physical pleasure is lost upon such a merging, but such things are fleeting. Ephemeral. Weak. To be able to share one’s infinite existence with one’s lover is powerful. Eternal. Indestructible. The fire is everything.

The knowledge and emotions you gain from him are not lost when you finally regain your individuality – will you ever regain it? - The truth and the understanding burn deeply into your core.

You know it.

Lahabrea knows it.

You never find the book you are searching for, but when you return with the answers you were seeking, no one questions you.

You are their Sword of Light, nothing else matters.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to elaborate on this pairing, or at least write WoL with the other Ascians.


End file.
